


made void

by chanterie



Series: the road you're on [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4087453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chanterie/pseuds/chanterie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the exhaustion of battle disappears the second hadley realizes there is no one but her party left alive in the harrowing chamber.</p>
            </blockquote>





	made void

**Author's Note:**

> while writing hadley-as-inquisitor fic, i realized that this hc scene i had is really going to set the tone for her early interactions with cullen. so i had to write it down. also, thanks to [wardencommander-amell](http://wardencommander-amell.tumblr.com) for her [circle tower body count](http://wardencommander-amell.tumblr.com/post/111307826313/circle-tower-body-count) post.

Exhaustion eats at her bones. Hadley can feel it dragging her down, even as she gulps down another lyrium potion. Her hands feel numb from so much casting. Has she ever used this much magic in her life, let alone one day? 

 "Use the Litany!" Wynne calls from where she fires spell after spell at the  _thing_  Uldred has become.

 Hadley turns to look at the bodies of the mages that are writhing in their bonds. The Litany will save them. It will stop this. That's what Wynne and Niall both said. But the Tevene feels heavy on her tongue (it never has before, when she's read poetry or epics, but it does now) and she stumbles. What comes next? It was some conjugation of  _protectus_  but she can't--

 The bodies twist and deform and Hadley's stuttering recitation halts. She's too late. She keeps casting.

 It happens again. Again.  _Again,_ until the demon that took over Uldred's body falls and she is left staring at a tableau of blood and horror. Her stave falls from her hand as she stumbles to First Enchanter Irving's side. Red bubbles at the corners of his mouth and she knows without Wynne telling her that he is not long for this world.

 "It's alright, child," he rasps. "You did all you could."

 Hadley shakes her head as the light goes out of his eyes, but she can't speak. Can't even bring herself to stand and move out of the gore that's soaking into her robes. The exhaustion of battle disappears the second Hadley realizes there is no one but her party left alive in the harrowing chamber. All that's left is a blank emptiness.

 Her mabari whines softly, nosing at her cheek. She thinks the clanking sound of heavy armor that comes a few moments later is her fellow warden at first. Then she hears Cullen's voice. 

 "You did it..." He looks around at the harrowing chamber, mouth parted in shock. Hadley watches as he trembles ever so slightly and notes the bruises under his eyes. "I almost feel sorry for them, but it had to be done."

 "No," Wynne says, leaning heavily on her staff. "It didn't. We could've tried harder to save them. We failed but at least... at least this is over now."

 She says  _we_  like the fault is hers. The lance tearing through Hadley's rib cage tells her how much of a lie that is. If she'd been stronger, if she'd memorized the Litany better, if she'd just tried a little more...

 "What happens now?" she hears herself say, toneless.

 Cullen rubs at the back of his neck, staring at Irving's body. "We will have to start over, but there will always be mages, and the Circle will always be needed."

 She swallows hard. "I should--I should tell Greagoir it's over."

Alistair is at her side in a heartbeat, offering her a hand up. He's holding her staff with his other hand and the look of sympathy on his face just about breaks her. "There--" his voice cracks and he has to start over. "There shouldn't be any more danger on the way down, but you should keep this with you."

Hadley takes her staff from him, and curls around it. Her shoulders roll forward and her fair falls in front of her face like a red curtain. If only it could really separate her from the rest of the world. 

"Follow me," Cullen says quietly. "I'll lead you down."

They're silent as they walk through eerily quiet halls. After the hours of screaming and battle it seems--wrong. Even when the Circle wasn't in the midst of chaos there was always noise. Apprentices talking, children playing games, Enchanters debating over this study or that. The complete lack of sound is in some ways more disturbing than the numbers of dead that repeat themselves over and over in Hadley's head.

Everything is numb as she talks things over with Greagoir. They did, after all, come here for aid. They need to leave with something more than awful memories and Wynne, lovely as she is. Once she's secured the templars' support, Hadley hesitates. The grip she has on her staff turns her knuckles white.

"There are one hundred and ninety-six dead that I found," she says, monotone. Cullen, who has been standing quietly behind Greagoir, staring at his boots, looks up. He's startled, she realizes. "At least sixty-three of those were templars. You... may have a hard time identifying some of the b-bodies."

She stutters again and that's when she truly breaks. Alistair's arms catch her around the middle before she can sink to the floor like she wants to, and she leans back against his chest plate. It's still covered in blood. Just like the hand she presses to her mouth as she tries to stop the tears from spilling from her eyes.

"Why--" Cullen's voice cracks. "Why are you crying? I thought... I thought all mages would want to be free of the Circle."

Hadley shakes her head. "They were my family too, Cullen," is all she can say.

Greagoir's gauntleted hand rests lightly on her head for a moment. He sighs, heavily. "You've done a good thing here, Warden Hadley, though it may not seem like it now. Thank you for your service, child."

The words sound as hollow as Hadley's chest feels. Alistair's arms tighten around her as he steers her towards the doors. "Come on," he says quietly. "Let's go. We could use some distance between us and this place before we rest, I think."

She nods, and wipes at her face. She's sure it's just made more of a mess of it, but she's too tired to care. With Alistair's hand on her elbow, her dog Stanton on her other side, and Wynne behind her, Hadley walks out of Kinloch Hold. 

She doesn't look back.


End file.
